Abortion attempt survivor. Voice for the voiceless.

It’s been almost a week now since Nancy Pelosi came out publicly with her comments about abortion coverage in the national healthcare plan and her personal beliefs about abortion and how they are or are not connected to her Catholic faith.  I’ve been praying for Ms. Pelosi for months now, but after hearing her comments last week, I have been praying more fervently for her.  I have been mulling over writing her a letter for days now, and I am going to give all of you first glance at the initial thoughts that I plan on sharing with her:

1)  You state, “thank God” the Senate bill includes massive funds for abortion.

I say, THANK GOD that He saved me from certain death by saline infusion abortion.

THANK GOD that He saved me from being burned alive from the outside in.

THANK GOD He spared me from suffering from any form of physical, emotional or mental disability as a result of the abortion procedure.

THANK GOD that instead of living her life knowing that she ended the life of her first born child, my biological mother has been able to know that her child was given the gift of life-as opposed to the millions of women just like her who are not so blessed to say that their children lived.

2)  You say, “I never count on Republicans.”

I never count on most Democrats, like yourself, to help protect and respect me, my life, and those of my fellow unborn brothers and sisters.  Although there are certainly a handful of Democrats who are pro-life and are not afraid to admit it, by and large, you have continued to fail children like me each and every day.

Where would you be if your own biological mother made the same choice that mine did? When will you and your peers learn that without the basic right to life, healthcare for all Americans would not even be an issue?

3)  You state that restricting abortion amounts to a violation of women’s free will and is inconsistent with your Catholic faith.  You state that women should have the opportunity to exercise their free will.

Please tell me where my free will is as a woman who survived a failed abortion attempt, a lethal attempt on my life? Where does the concept of free will begin and end? At what point of my life, as a female, did I suddenly become “eligible” to exercise my free will? How is it right or just that without God’s grace in saving me from the abortion attempt that I NEVER would have had “the opportunity to exercise [my] free will?”

Do you believe that women being coerced into having an abortion, just like my own biological mother was, are REALLY exercising their own free will? Do you believe that by focusing all of our funding efforts on ending lives through abortion instead of focusing our attention and funding on addressing the real needs of pregnant women, such as the need for insurance coverage for the child’s birth, for the child after they are born,  meeting their financial needs, addressing their need for safe and habitable housing, providing them with emotional and social supports is REALLY helping to provide women in exercising their own free will?

Is it REALLY free will when you believe that there is no other option out there OTHER than abortion?

4)  You mention that you have “had five children in six years…so I appreciate and value all that they want to talk about in terms of family and the rest.”

First of all, I don’t mean to make an assumption about you, but to be honest, you are obviously making assumptions about me as an unborn child, so I feel compelled to share my hypothesis about what underlying issue may be driving your stance on abortion.

Being a mother is hard work, I know.  I only have one wonderful child, who is now 20 months old (who, by the way, would never have had the opportunity at life if her own mother would never have survived the abortion attempt), and she can be a handful.  I can only imagine what it was like for you to raise five children in the span of six years.  No matter how rewarding and wonderful it is to be a mother, I am sure that you had your moments of being under extreme stress.

I wonder whether your experience of having so many children in such a short time frame hasn’t impacted your thoughts on abortion….you may have chosen life for your five children, but maybe your experience has led you to believe that other women should have the “choice” to not be a mother of five in six short years? Are you at some level resentful of being the mother of five children in six years?

This is just the barebones of what I’m putting together…..let me know if you have any thoughts about it….I plan to keep working and reworking it and fill her in on the specifics of my survival, of my daughter’s life, etc.

To all of my unborn brothers and sisters out there who have been victims of abortion, to all of the fellow survivors of failed abortion attempts out there around the world who have lived to tell their story of survival and bear witness to the grace of God and the true reality of abortion, Happy Feast Day of the Holy Innocent.

The Feast of the Holy Innocent

Since the sixth century, on December 28, the Church has celebrated the memory of those children killed because of Herod’s rage against Christ (cf. Mt 2:16-17). Liturgical tradition refers to them as the “Holy Innocents” and regards them as martyrs. Throughout the centuries Christian art, poetry and popular piety have enfolded the memory of the “tender flock of lambs”(125) with sentiments of tenderness and sympathy. These sentiments are also accompanied by a note of indignation against the violence with which they were taken from their mothers’ arms and killed.

In our own times, children suffer innumerable forms of violence which threaten their lives, dignity and right to education. On this day, it is appropriate to recall the vast host of children not yet born who have been killed under the cover of laws permitting abortion, which is an abominable crime. Mindful of these specific problems, popular piety in many places has inspired acts of worship as well as displays of charity which provide assistance to pregnant mothers, encourage adoption and the promotion of the education of children.

As recorded in the gospel of Matthew (below), after the visit of the Magi, Herod, in rage and jealousy, slaughtered all the baby boys in Bethlehem and surrounding countryside in an attempt to destroy his perceived rival, the infant Messiah. These “innocents” are honored by the Church as martyrs.

In countries where our own innocents are daily being slaughtered by abortion, [like the U. S.], this feast day is a special time to remember the unborn, to pray for their cause, and perhaps to picket or pray at facilities where unborn babies are killed through abortion.

Source:  Women of Faith and Family-http://wf-f.org/NovUnb.html

If you ask my husband, he would tell you that I am rarely, if ever, out of words.  I am a talker.  I talk to myself;  I talked to my daughter continuously throughout the day and night when she was even just an infant, and I still do (guess that’s why she’s a talker, too); I talk to my husband when he probably just wants some peace and quiet.  I just can’t help it—I like to talk.  Don’t get me wrong, I like to listen, too, but I really like to talk.  Get me on stage at a speaking event and I could talk for hours (in fact, I have before).

This week, however, I’ve been rendered speechless.  As most of you reading this now probably know, I sent out a press release on Christian Newswire this past Monday, sharing my life story and ministry with the world.  Although I’ve been speaking publicly now for about 2 ½ years, and my story had been gaining notice around the world, I was still relatively anonymous prior to Monday’s release.  People who knew of me knew me through one of my speaking events, news or radio interviews, or through general word of mouth.  And although I’ve most certainly been okay with that, I’ve been praying intently lately about what the next steps are in my ministry, and the Lord guided me to send out that release.

Let me backtrack for a moment here, because I think that I need to expand on some experiences that have led up to Monday’s release…..

I don’t know about any of you, but I have the tendency to be impatient.  I generally have a hard time waiting for the Lord to give me an answer on something, anything!  I always tell Him that I will wait for His answer on something, but after a couple of days, or sometimes even just a couple of hours, I go ahead and do whatever it is that I want to do, without a definite answer from Him on the subject.  And without fail, I always have the same experience afterwards—-dead silence.  Nothing happens as a result of what I attempt to do.   If I sent an email to a literary agent about a manuscript that I am working on, I hear nothing back.  If I contacted a radio show about an interview, I get no response.  And so on and so forth, in all areas of my life, big and small.  I don’t know why I do it, when I know what the outcome will be; I guess I just can’t help myself-I’m a sinner, what can I say.

Each and every time that this happens, though, that I “jump the God,” as I like to say, and take matters into my own hands without guidance from Him, I feel like I am hitting my head against the wall.  I literally visualize myself trying to forcefully open a door that won’t budge, and I smack my head into the door.  And when I don’t wait for the Lord, or I don’t listen to his guidance, I smack my head over and over again.  I had been smacking my head against door after door an awful lot in the last month or two.  I always felt like I was grabbing, grabbing for something concrete to hold onto, for something that would further my ministry, but I was being impatient.  I wasn’t waiting for God’s answer; I wasn’t listening to what He was trying to tell me.  Finally, after getting tired of having a sore head and bruised spirit from all of the door banging, I prayed.  And instead of praying for the Lord’s guidance in my ministry, I began in recent weeks to pray for patience, in all areas of my life.  I began to pray for a quietness of mind and spirit that would allow me to truly listen, and hear the Lord’s plan for me.  I prayed for a deeper friendship with the Lord, where I could appreciate Him and share with Him in all aspects of my life.

And do you know what happened? I felt great.  I began to sit in conversation with Him and not ask Him for answers in my life and ministry, but just talked with Him, about all things, good and bad, my hopes and fears, my sins and penance.  I didn’t worry about what the “next step” was going to be, I simply began to enjoy everything in my life, including my prayer time, for what it was, not what it could be or what it might result in.  It had been far too long since I had prayed like that, without an agenda.

Maybe you’ve experienced this yourself, how shifting your focus in prayer and relationship with God can bring such peace and joy in your life.  If you haven’t, I certainly hope that someday you do, because it is awesome experience.  It’s interesting, even though I continued to talk and talk and talk in my everyday life, it is my very talk with the Lord that so positively influenced every aspect of my life in recent weeks, and ultimately led me to send out the press release.

I had known about the Christian Newswire service for many months now, but had been knocking on doors of my own choosing despite that knowledge.  To be honest, I’m not even sure how long the Lord had been telling me to send out that release through that site.  He very well could have told me numerous times to do it, but I didn’t hear Him, or I didn’t listen.  What I do know is that this past Sunday, He guided me back to the website to learn more about it, and I started working on the press release that night.  This time, however, instead of taking it at face value that this was His plan, I didn’t send the release off that night.  In fact, I didn’t even finish it.  I purposely left it unfinished and prayed about it before going to bed.  I prayed that the Lord give me the patience to wait for an answer on it before I moved any further on it.

When I woke up at 2:17 in the morning with the opening sentence to the release floating in my brain, I knew that it was His sign.  I knew that it was time to move forward and create a release to send through the Christian Newswire service, and that’s exactly what I did.

So, to get back to my original subject….why I am speechless? First of all, I am rendered speechless by the grace of God.  Who else would stand beside you while you were going against Him, taking matters into your own hands, but then still stand beside you when you were finally following Him and listening to His guidance?  Who else would partake in your joy for all of the little things in your life and then likewise be full of excitement and jubilation at the big step that you are taking in your ministry? Who else would wake you up in the middle of the night with the answer that you were finally willing to sit and wait days, if not even months for? He is amazing, isn’t He?!

I am also speechless at the overwhelming response that I received to sending out the press release.  To be honest, I was so wrapped up into following the Lord’s plan on sending it out, that I hadn’t even thought about what the potential outcome of it would be.  I knew that it would be good, otherwise He wouldn’t have directed me to do it, but I didn’t know how good.  So when, within hours of sending it out, I started to receive requests for interviews, speaking engagements, and general, supportive comments through my website, I was rendered speechless.

Although being given the gift of life and the opportunity to bear witness to His grace and glory are certainly the greatest gifts that I have been given (motherhood is the next greatest gift), having the opportunity to hear from others around the world who are fellow believers, others whose lives have been impacted by abortion, including those who have had abortions, themselves, is truly a wonderful gift.  I can’t tell you how many times in the past week now that I have been moved to tears by the kind words that I’ve received from people around the world, by how many people are interested in my story (although it’s really HIS story), and how many people are praying for me, my daughter and husband, and my ministry.

Just ask my husband…..it’s been pretty quiet around the house this week……he probably appreciates it that you’ve all helped rendered me speechless…..for awhile anyway.

Everybody’s talking at me.
I don’t hear a word they’re saying,
Only the echoes of my mind.
People stopping staring,
I can’t see their faces,
Only the shadows of their eyes.

I’m going where the sun keeps shining
Thru’ the pouring rain,
Going where the weather suits my clothes,
Backing off of the North East wind,
Sailing on summer breeze
And skipping over the ocean like a stone.

I’m going where the sun keeps shining
Thru’ the pouring rain,
Going where the weather suits my clothes,
Backing off of the North East wind,
Sailing on summer breeze
And skipping over the ocean like a stone

—Harry Nilsson

Although the interpretation of this song varies from person to person, I have always interpreted these lyrics as describing what it’s like to have people always talking about you; talking at you as if you aren’t there, standing right in front of them; having people staring at you; and about how you, personally deal with all of this; finding your own peace and solitude in the midst of it all.

Have you ever felt like people are talking at you, talking about you, even though you are standing there right in front of them? I feel that way each and every day.

A typical day for me goes something like this:

I get out of bed, and if I’m lucky to have a few minutes to myself, I turn on the tv to catch the morning news while I am getting ready. Some days, I can avoid hearing about myself, but in recent months, it’s been day after day that the news is about me, although I remain nameless in the broadcast. The healthcare bill and whether coverage of abortion is included in it, George Tiller murdered, Abby Johnson resigning from Planned Parenthood after viewing an abortion, the newsfeed goes on and on. The major newsmakers involved in each story may change, but the one constant in each of these stories is the unborn children that are killed by abortion. Having survived an abortion, myself, at approximately 24 weeks gestation, I consider myself one of these unborn children.

The only difference between myself and the others who have been aborted is that I was blessed enough to survive, have a voice, and now lend it to them in return. I honestly believe that all of us, as fellow humans, are just like my fellow unborn brothers and sisters whose lives have been ended by abortion. We are all human; we are all made from the same fabric of life. The only thing that sets us apart is one decision-the decision that some make to end a life. Far too often I see people avoid this true reality about abortion. We were all one step, one decision away from being an aborted child. This is the reality of my life that I’ve had to face, and it has certainly not been easy, but far too many people seem to be complacent with the fact that their mother chose life. I don’t wish the reality of my life on anyone (although I have come to the point in my life where I know that it is an absolute blessing and gift, not a hardship), but I do wish that more people could walk in my shoes for just a day to truly feel, to truly understand the reality of abortion and not take the so-called “choice” of life for granted.

But I digress…..

After getting myself and Olivia ready for the day, I drop her off at daycare. And although our music of choice during our trip is children’s music or a movie, after I have the car all to my lonesome, I turn on my satellite radio. Typically, I listen to EWTN, but sometimes I listen to XM’s Catholic Channel, and still other times I catch up on the news with CNN Headline News. No matter the station, however, the talk again always turns to abortion, to pro-life issues, to unborn children.

While at work, I typically check my personal email on my Blackberry a couple of times a day, and check out the news on the local and national fronts, and also the newest updates from friends, family, and colleagues on Facebook and Twitter. Obviously, because of my pro-life beliefs and interest, I receive emails, inspirational quotes, and news links on abortion and pro-life work throughout the day. And obviously, that is my choice to do so, as it is so many other people around the world, but the difference between 99% of the rest of the world and myself is that once again, whether it’s the satellite radio station or the news links and emails that I receive, I am one of the unborn children that are being talked about.

And so my day continues….my trip home is much like my trip to work. I listen to satellite radio on my way to pick up my daughter from daycare, and once again hear about abortion and the unborn children just like me that are killed each and every day. When my husband and I turn on the evening and nightly news, there are the day’s stories again, almost always touching on abortion. Before I go to bed at night, and I check out my emails and updates from Facebook and Twitter again, there are more stories, more news about abortion.

And yes, I know that I could turn it all off-the tv, the emails, the Internet and it’s applications, which truthfully, many days I do, and frankly, I would encourage everyone to do, to shut out the noise of the world that we live in and just focus on ourselves and our families (kind of like Harry Nilsson does in his lyrics, finding some peace and serenity amongst it all), but that’s not my point here.

My point is that like the survivor of a traumatic experience often has to relive it over and over again, both in their mind and through it playing out in the media, I live out my “status” as the survivor of a failed abortion attempt each and every day, and will do so for the rest of my life.   I can turn off the radio or the tv, but I can’t turn off the truth.

I simply can’t say it enough—I know that my life is a blessing, but I don’t know that I can truly tell you how it feels to have people “talking at you” all day long, and wondering if they understand what they are saying, who they are really talking about; whether they ever hear a word that I am saying.  I hope that you do.

As for me,

“I’m going where the sun keeps shining
Thru’ the pouring rain,
Going where the weather suits my clothes,
Backing off of the North East wind,
Sailing on summer breeze
And skipping over the ocean like a stone.”

Today may have seemed like just any other day to anyone who had the opportunity to run into my daughter and me today at the indoor waterpark we visited in Storm Lake, Iowa, where my in-laws live, but to me, this wasn’t just any other day, it was a celebration of life and love.

Let me build up to my point here. For the record, I really do miss snuggling with a newborn and cuddling up with an infant, but to me, nothing tops the expressions of love that a toddler gives. Olivia just turned 19 months old on Thanksgiving Day-I can hardly believe that our little girl is almost two already! (Sigh). Olivia’s always been a snuggler, a cuddler, and an all-around Mommy’s girl, but there is just something so heartwarming (and sometimes heart-wrenching, depending on the circumstances, like leaving her at daycare) about a child who suddenly doesn’t just NEED YOU but WANTS YOU and isn’t afraid to let you or anyone else in the world know it.

Our girl gives the best squeezes (hugs), and pats you on the back whole-heartedly as she does so. She gives wonderful, sloppy, (and unfortunately, most of the time, also snotty) kisses, and she now says “I l-o-o-o-v-e y-o-o-o-u.” (Another big sigh). She melts my heart every time! If all of that outward expression of love wasn’t enough, Olivia always starts her day off the same way, (no matter how early in the day it is, much to my chagrin) singing, and her new favorite song goes a little something like this, “Mommy, Daddy, Mommy, Daddy!” Second verse, same as the first. My words definitely don’t do her little melody justice, but I hope that you can get the sense of Olivia’s deep love and affection for my husband and me, and her unabashedness in sharing it with the world.

I know what some of you must be thinking. Big deal! Every toddler begins to develop emotions, a sense of empathy, of love. Toddlers do everything in grandiose, including showing their emotions. True, true, I will admit, but when you consider the life that I have lived and wasn’t supposed to live at all, and therefore, the life that my daughter almost didn’t get the chance to live, there is something so special about my daughter and the overwhelming strength of her joy and her love.

Which brings me to today….my husband headed home earlier than us (to put together his early Christmas present-a new flat screen tv that he didn’t really need), so it was just Olivia, me, and Olivia’s godmother who went swimming. It certainly was a good time; Olivia loves the water, loves being around other kids, and loved getting to spend with her godmother, but to me, the best part of the day was seeing and feeling just how much Olivia loved me and loved spending time with me.

I am sad to admit that I like the me that is present on holidays and weekends so much better than the me that is present during the week when I am exhausted and being pulled in a million different directions. I am even sadder to admit that I know that my daughter certainly can tell the difference between the mommy who sometimes has to squeeze time in for her versus the mommy who has all the time in the world for her on her days off.

I know that I am not alone in this experience, but the very foundation of my relationship with Olivia, knowing that my life was almost taken from me during that abortion attempt and therefore that I would never have lived, never become a mother, has forged an even deeper love and understanding of the fragility of human relationships, of the importance of motherhood, of unconditional love in me and makes me strive to be the very best person, wife, and mother that I can be.

So today, when the onlookers at the pool saw this beautiful, joyful toddler throwing her arms around her mother’s neck, when they saw her yelling out, “mommy, mommy” anytime I wasn’t right there with her, when they saw her smattering my face with sloppy, wet kisses, when they saw my eyes dancing with delight as I took in every new experience that she had today, when they felt the joy that we shared together today, it may have seemed like any other day to them, a mother and child enjoying their time at the waterpark, but it was so much more than that.

It was another living example of the celebration of life and love that Olivia and I experience each and every day. Each day is a gift, and although I certainly long for more time with my daughter, I can honestly tell you that each day I wake up to her beautiful face and hear her melodious voice calling my name, I thank the Lord for the gift of our lives and the gift of His love and the love that we share with one another. And that, my friends, IS something truly special.